


consequences of after

by swedishcowmug



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Attempt at Humor, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Grief/Mourning, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Post-Calamity Ganon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Work In Progress, i think, zelink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29259732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swedishcowmug/pseuds/swedishcowmug
Summary: the calamity was zelda's only purpose in life for over one hundred years. how do you get to know oneself if you never had the opportunity to grow? with the calamity gone, a different battle ensues, one closer to home, a home she no longer recognizes, with a man who may not even remember the grief she must now face.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Zelink - Relationship
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	1. weaving

chapter one: weaving

Memories are fragile things. The mind might remember silly things, like a specific smell, or a day spent at a park as a child, but forget something that seems more essential, like the route home after being away for a while, or the timbre of voice of someone long lost. It should be easy to remember what life was supposed to be, what a normal day consisted of, yet Zelda couldn’t remember the last time she felt a semblance of normalcy, and therefore the memory of how to exist felt lost on her.

It had been only a week since Calamity Ganon was destroyed. A week since Zelda took her life back, a week since Link destroyed the being who wrought the land for the past century. Yet, Zelda felt she could not relax.

Even now, as she pinned sheets up to a clothesline in front of Link’s Hateno Village home, Zelda’s heart raced with anticipation. It was dread for something she knew realistically would never come, but still, she was afraid. Even menial tasks had a hard time bringing her to reality, despite the cold water from the pillowcase soaking her hand, chilled from the waters of Firly Pond nearby.

For Link, it had seemed so easy. Despite facing Ganon head on with little more than faith, courage, and a glowing sword, he relaxed into village life easily. She could see him, as she set another clothespin on the line, talking amiably with one of the townspeople. He seemed so at home in this life, his complexion tanned from exposure to the wild, his hands placed on his hips, giving off the impression of being secure in himself and his abilities. Zelda, she realized, was not. She was still broken. At least having chores filled her time with something valuable, more valuable than wishing for something she could never have.

She sighed, however, as she realized she’d hung the last linen. Now, to wait for them to dry. The monotony should have been a comfort, but adrenaline still pumped through her veins. Her eyes sought out Link again, hoping he’d return home but not daring to voice these wants. At the very least, just looking at his crinkled eyes caught in a smile gave a sense of normalcy to her, a reminder of the past. As she examined him, still in deep conversation with the Hateno resident (she still had not gotten around to introducing herself, and therefore was unsure of who this person was), his eyes glanced over to hers.

 _Ah, you’re staring_ , she thought to herself, embarrassed by her childish wants. _He’s an adult, he can do what he wants, stop vying for his attention like a schoolgirl._ Yet, as her eyes lingered on his for a moment, he suddenly nodded, turning his attention back to the villager. She swiftly turned around, heading back into the house with the empty basket, cursing at herself for being so silly. Walking up the old wooden stairs, heading for the bed, she tried to shake the strange feelings fighting for dominance in her mind. She set the basket down carefully, feeling the entwined weaves of the basket with her fingers, choosing instead to focus on something tangible, something set in true reality again.

“Perhaps I should pick up a hobby, that’ll surely fix me,” she mumbled to herself, examining the basket in interest, studying how the weaves interlocked to form a curved structure.

“If you are thinking of weaving, I’d love a hat.”

The voice came from behind her suddenly, and she glanced back quickly. Link was suddenly standing behind her, arms crossed in front of him, and a slight smile on his face. A smile that never failed to morph the rock in her stomach to butterflies, one of the feelings raging in her mind suddenly dominating the fight for her attention.

“Ah, I’m not sure I will be able to gather the materials required for such a big head,” she smiled back gently, her arms crossing in front of her to match his friendly stance. At this, Link rolled his eyes. These were the moments that made the dread disappear from existence.

“Well, this big head was thinking of dinner, how would you like to go down to the market with me? I was thinking of making a curry.” At this, he stepped around her, taking off the little gear he carried with him and placing it on a hook on the wall. Zelda pondered, slight guilt seeping into her veins as she thought about making conversation with the villagers. She knew that she should, but more than anything she just wanted to curl up in a ball, block out the light, squeeze into nothing.

“I’d love it if you accompanied me.”

Zelda sighed, smiling sadly at Link. She couldn’t say no to the smile still on his lips. “I suppose the laundry won’t miss me if I leave for a bit. Curry sounds wonderful, Link, I’m excited to learn a new recipe.”

“Hm, I suppose I could teach you, but I can’t have you chopping the vegetables like last time. No one wants the skin of an onion in their meal, it really throws off the flavor.” Link winked and turned around as Zelda attempted a retort, and while trying to defend her lack of kitchen prowess, he began going for the stairs. “I’m ready when you are!”

“Alright, Sir Big Head, I’m following, but I’ll have you know that I stand by my choice on onion usage! Why would any part of the onion be wasted? There must be something you can do with the outside!” Her calls to him earned a scoff, and she quickly descended the stairs to the door alongside him. He handed her a mesh bag for groceries as he bent to put his shoes back on.

“Perhaps that can be your new hobby,” He said, bending back up and looking at Zelda seriously. She bent her head in question. “Onion art.”

At this Zelda snorted, pushing him aside and striding out the door into the warm sun.“Maybe I will, just to spite you. I think I could make a beautiful hat of onion for you, if you so please.”

Link closed the door behind them, then suddenly grabbed her hand, to her surprise. Her eyes flickered down to their hands, then back up to his eyes. He leaned in, whispering softly. “I bet you would make a beautiful onion hat. I wait with bated breath for such a gift.” He now smiled fully at her expression, dropping her hand and walking down the path to the main stretch.

“You jest, but just you wait! You will be smelling of onions in no time!” She called after him, hurrying down the path with a smile on her face, the butterflies in full force.

It was times like these, with her protector, her friend, her… Link, that she easily forgot the feeling of doom and failure looming in her mind. Yet it sat, in wait, for the next moment she began to allow it to bloom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to get out my feelings about botw, as well as get back into writing fiction, so I am so sorry at the quality of this, I just needed to get some stuff out into the air! so if you're reading this, enjoy, and I'm shocked I actually followed through on this :o) also, sorry about the formatting but I just copy pasted from my google doc and didn't feel like trying to make it right lol <3


	2. eyes of stone

chapter two: eyes of stone

The market was bustling with activity this time of day. She should have expected it, as the sun lowered in the sky, indicating the end of a midsummer work day. It was still a shock to her, though, to be surrounded by noise, jostling, children’s laughter, and the smells of spices and herbs swirling down the block. It was a wave of calmness that seeped over her, surprisingly, in the joyous overflowing of sensory perception, mostly because it drowned out the other somatic manifestations that came from her mind.

Unlike the village front Zelda had seen upon small trips to fetch basic needs like soap and a hairbrush, the streets were now lined with stalls, each selling various wares. From freshly picked vegetables to newly dyed goods, there was an abundance of items to fawn over, and she took the opportunity with a rush of excitement. She strode past Link in a sudden change of heart, smiling at pretty jewelry on one of the tables. An older woman sat behind the table, tinkering around with a bit of the jewelry, bending the wire around a stone with a small pair of pliers. As Zelda admired the goods, the old woman put the piece down in her lap, nodding forward at her with a smile. 

“Evening, child, are you looking for anything in particular today?” The woman spoke in a gravelly voice, one that sounded out of practice, but soothing nonetheless. Zelda put down the pink stone she was looking at and smiled back at the woman, observing the deep crows feet framing her eyes, a sign of kindness shown over decades and decades of use. 

“No, but I am incredibly interested in knowing where you found such gorgeous stones! I didn’t realize Hateno had any such thing nearby.” She looked at Link in question, who was smiling in Zelda’s direction. This caused her to blush and turn away, staring down at the stones again. _Again, acting like an infatuated child! Silly, silly girl._ She glanced back up, seeing that his eyes had also shifted, and were instead pointed down at the jewelry quietly, a hand picking at his sleeve. _Will we ever be normal again?_

The old woman’s voice brought her thoughts back, away from Link and that itching, strange thought. “Ah, yes, I have some grandchildren living on the road, and they pick up any interesting stone they find and send it back to me. I have years and years of collected rocks from them. Children really do see the beauty in things that the rest of us might not see, hm?” She stood, picking up the wire and stone that she was bending. “This is an old stone, I had kept it for years, but something told me I needed to start making it into a piece today. Isn’t it pretty?” She handed it to Zelda, who gently took it in her hands, careful to not prick herself on the exposed wire. 

“How lovely, is this rock special to you then? It is really something…” Zelda trailed off, examining the pretty blue stone, which was shining as if freshly tumbled. Her finger trailed the swirling wire tightening around the lovely colored stone. It was as blue as the sky on a bright spring day, or the water off the coast…

Or Link’s eyes. 

At that thought, her lips formed a tight line. _I’ve really got to stop._ “It really is quite a talent you have, but I’m afraid I don’t have much money to spare. Thank you for sharing, I really appreciate it.” She handed the stone back, nodding curtly and stepping away. Her hand gripped at her bag as the feeling of dread returned. This one had a more firm name, though. She knew what she was afraid of now. She quickly walked through the crowd, not bothering to see if Link followed behind. She didn’t want to see the confusion, the sadness in them, because she knew what probably consumed his thoughts as well.

Link couldn’t house her forever, she would need to move on, and move on soon. With his memories still fragile and empty in spots, she couldn’t ask him to care for her, someone he might not even truly remember. She was a burden, a nervous wreck, and now she felt she had no control over the wave of emotions overtaking her body, and could do little to even name them. Her thoughts continued to snowball, the rest of the market blurred around her as she numbly looked at vegetables on a table from a few steps away. 

“Can I help you, dear?”

The woman behind the stall brought Zelda back to the earth, again. “Ah, yes, maybe…” Suddenly she realized, she had no idea what went in a curry, and even if she did, the rupees were not on her person. _Goddesses, what is happening to me?_ “I’m sorry, actually, I’ve forgotten my money, it seems, so sorry.”

Zelda backed away, unsure what to do. _Should I go back? I should go back, I’m embarrassing myself, everyone already thinks me a phantom, and here I am acting… unstable._ Suddenly, she backed into something solid. “Ah, so sorry!”

“Are you alright?” A familiar voice, a settling one. A somber one. 

“Link, I’m so sorry, I just…” She didn’t know what to say, as she didn’t know what was coming over her, and didn’t know truly if she was alright. “I just figured I’d beat you to the veggies so you know I’m not as inept in the kitchen as you thought.”

Link’s eyebrows scrunched, as if he didn’t quite believe her, but smoothed in a moment. “Well, I guess I’ll follow your lead, dear chef. I am at your service.” 

Those words did not appease the thoughts devouring her brain, but with a task at hand, a chore to accomplish, she was able to smile a little and lead him back to the veggie counter. From there, she held up various goods, inspecting them, trying to remember what a curry was like, but helped along immensely by Link’s subtle nods of approval or disdain with each item she touched. Before long, their bag was full, and they began to make their way back up to Link’s house, side by side in silence. As they approached the doorway, Link suddenly stopped, cupping Zelda’s elbow gently to turn her back around towards him. The touch lasted moments, but was enough, again, to make her curse her stumbling heart. 

Suddenly, he looked slightly embarrassed, his eyes flickering downwards as she turned to meet his gaze. “Hey, I wanted to give you something,” he reached into his pocket, gripping something in his palm. “You sounded like you liked this, and wanted a project, so… it’s yours, if you want it of course.” 

He placed the small item in her hand, and she took it, holding it up for closer inspection. It was the unfinished wire wrapped stone, the edges still a bit sharp to the touch. 

“It sounded like you wanted a hobby, and as much as an onion hat sounds like a real fashion statement, I realized smelling like onions would be quite unfortunate when trying to make friends.” He smiled, reaching into his other pocket and pulling out a pair of pliers. 

“Oh, Link… that’s so thoughtful of you, it’s beautiful,” She felt tears in her eyes, the notion of him giving her more than he already had surprisingly painful. “I owe you so much already, I promise I’ll pay you back for everything, one day, when I’m able to go on my own, gt a real job. This really is beautiful, thank you.” Her eyes flickered back up to his, and she was surprised to see his head cocked to the side, his expression hard to read. 

“Of course, princess. You owe me nothing. Now, let’s get some dinner started.” The words came out gruff. As he passed Zelda, his face was downcast, unreadable. _He called me princess… Does he despise me, so?_ Suddenly, the feeling of dread was tenfold, and she knew her time was running out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i only have a few chapters written, but i kind of just wanted to put this one out there because i have some serious writers block and needed to feel some sense of accomplishment. i'm currently in midterm season in my senior year of college, so my consistency with writing and publishing the chapters might be a bit on the wonky side, but i will continue to write as much as i can and publish as i go!
> 
> thank you to those who gave kudos, and please comment and let me know if you like or dislike something!! i'm looking to improve my writing, so please let me know what you think! peace and love your way, lovely readers (o:


	3. slip

chapter three: slip

The dreams that encapsulated Zelda’s nights made her feel as though she were back in the Calamity’s grasp again. Choking, feverish, sulfurous. The toxicity of just existing in this purgatory felt as though it was going to rip her apart, but only if she didn’t tear herself apart first. Thus, the gasp of fresh air she took as she shot up in bed, the air around her mildly warm and cool toned, was a shock to her system. Her head drooped to her hands, exhaustion from the same plaguing dream beginning to take a major toll. Her restlessness, she decided, was a sign to get up and move. 

She had no idea the time, but based on the quietness surrounding her and the stars visible through the small window, she reasoned it must still be the middle of the night. She pulled off the sheets quietly, carefully stepping in her thick woolen socks, in hopes that the floorboards would not betray her. 

On the bottom floor was where Link had set up his own sleeping quarters, to Zelda’s dismay during their first night staying there. She had struggled against him, to no avail, for her to take the bottom floor so he may sleep in his own bed, but he would not have it.  _ Always the protector. Too selfless, too much. _

She carefully crept around him, grabbing her boots by the door and swiftly slipping into the night air beyond the door. She had no plan, just the feeling that she needed to leave as quickly as possible, into the colder air, to leave behind the traces of nightmare that clung onto her consciousness. She didn’t know the village very well at all, only the way to the pond, the market, and the Hateno Lab, which she had been to visit once, but currently Purah and Symin were off to Kakariko Village to see Impa for the first time in a very long time. 

She chose to walk towards the pond, having fastened her boots next to the cooking pot. She saw the mountains looming in the distance with a promise of cold, clean air to wash away the disgust in her system. The tendrils of heat continued to burn her, remembering not just the dream, but the past century of torture. With a groan, she began to walk faster across the bridge, towards the pond.  _ Not now, not now! Stop thinking of this, get a grip! _

The thoughts would not leave her, however, and again she could almost feel the air thickening around her. She stumbled over her boots climbing up the hill towards the pond, her borrowed nightdress staining in the dirt as she fell to her hands. She stifled a sob, but got up anyways, a goal clear in her mind. She needed to rinse herself of the grime she felt was all over her body, entering her pores and infecting her bloodstream. Even her eyes felt dull, as if there was a veil covering her line of vision. She heard a call behind her, her name echoing into the night air, another figment of her imagination, she was sure. She was utterly, utterly alone, just as it always told her she would be. It was right, of course it was, she was tainted.  _ What kind of goddess incarnate lost her mind? _

She broke into a sprint, the still water coming into blurry sight in front of her. She didn’t bother taking her boots off as she launched herself into the freezing water. She could feel the toxins leaving her body, could almost hear the hiss as it left her skin. She plunged her head underwater, stifling more gasps of pain and terror. She swam towards the murky bottom, letting her body float, suspended. Her extremities tingled and tensed, paired with the feeling of her lungs deflating, as the sheer coldness made her body constrict in on itself. Suddenly, it was quiet. She couldn’t hear it calling to her anymore, couldn’t feel the heat of its breath on her neck, the raging colors behind her eyelids fading to dull blue nothingness.  _ This is where I’m meant to be. Sinking, fading, into nothing. I can finally find my peace.  _

Just as the blackness felt like a home, its hands curling around her in concession to her sacrifice, something grabbed her forearm, shoving her up towards the surface. As her head broke the surface, her lungs forced her to take a breath, the unconscious need to live overriding any other motor function in place. Her eyes opened to the blue stones from earlier in the day. But they weren’t the stones, and they belonged to someone, whose face was contorted into something that made her heart wrench. Suddenly, she was lifted out of the water, carried to shore, the tingling of her extremities returning, the oxygen burning her insides.

“L-Link…” Her teeth were chattering, and suddenly she was aware of just how cold she was.  _ When was the last time I was this cold? Why didn’t I feel this before?  _

Link did not answer her. His jaw was set, as he walked briskly back over the bridge, back to his home. The door was ajar, and as they passed the threshold, he kicked it closed with his foot. The air was already warmer in the house, and as Link climbed the stairs, Zelda felt embarrassment trickling down her spine. She kept her mouth closed, however, as Link set her carefully down on the ground beside the bed, turning to the wardrobe and fishing out thick pants and a wool shirt. 

“Can you put these on?” His voice was small, quiet, as he held the clothes timidly in his hands. Zelda raised her arms sluggishly, her eyes squinting shut as she felt the tears of mortification begin to well up in her eyes, until she was no longer able to hold them back. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she sobbed, pressing her fingernails into her skin in an attempt to rid herself of the uncontrollable emotions escaping her. Link’s arms were around her instantly, having knelt beside her in her fit. 

She let the tears fall, accepting that she could not control the wave crashing over her, that she was truly mad. She let Link brush his fingers through her hair, tucking them behind her ears quietly. “Breathe, Zelda. You’ve gotta breathe for me.” 

She lifted her head up off her knees, keeping her eyes closed. His hands fell from her shoulders, and instead took her hands from their white-knuckled position, where her fingernails had dug into flesh, into his own grip. “We can take deep breaths together. Count it out. Are you ready to do that?” She nodded, her cries having reached that painful zenith, sharp intakes of breath with no relief. 

“Okay, in, best you can…” Zelda opened her eyes, locking into Link’s own stare. She took a wavering inhale, shortened by another sob. But again, and again, the two maintained this practice, inhaling, holding, exhaling, cycling through until Zelda felt strong enough to exhale in one long, pent up breath. Their hands were still entangled, Zelda’s grasping on for dear life onto his. She closed her eyes, nodding, hoping he understood that she felt in control again. 

“We’ve got to get you out of these clothes before you catch something. One task at a time, right?” She opened her eyes to Link smiling lightly, untangling his hands from hers to grab the winter clothes beside him. “Want to tackle this one next?” She nodded again, placing her hands on the floor to pull herself up onto shaky legs, gripping onto the bed for support. She shut her eyes again, willing herself to remain in the present, especially since she knew if she couldn’t manage to pull on the pants, Link would certainly not hesitate to do it himself, and that made her feel oddly more nervous than the impending conversation they were likely going to have. But her strength betrayed her, and she sat on the bed in acceptance. Link seemed to realize as well, and knelt with the pants to assist, taking off her sopping boots and socks first.  _ Selfless to a fault. _

Once he had gotten the pants on her legs and to her knees, Zelda took over, feebly standing and using Link as a support as she tugged them under her soaking nightdress. She took the shirt in her hands, and Link spun around, back to her, but in close enough proximity so she could still use him as a support if needed. She quickly took off the night dress, tossing it on the ground, and shoved the warm wool shirt over her head. Once dressed, she collapsed onto the bed, facing towards the ceiling. Link turned around, sitting on the bed beside her. He twisted, looking down at her, his face clear except for a slight frown tugging his features down.

“Link, thank you, I don’t know what to say,” her voice was raspy, quiet. It broke the silence, and caused Link’s frown to deepen as her mouth gaped open, trying to find the words to explain herself. 

“We don’t have to talk about it right now, I understand,” He stood up, grabbing a blanket that had been tossed to the ground earlier in the night, draping the blanket over Zelda gently. “Do you want to try and sleep?” 

The shock to both her nervous system and her body from the night’s events informed her decision to nod, the past week of sleeplessness draining her completely. Link nodded back, and went to stand, but Zelda, who might have acted out of fatigue, or fear, or maybe a deeper subconscious want, grabbed his arm. “Can you stay? Please? You were in the water too, I can’t let you sleep on the floor.” 

If Link was aghast at her ask, he did not show it. Instead, he moved to take off his boots and his own damp clothes, to which Zelda turned from her back to her side to give him privacy. Once dressed in drier clothes, he moved to the side of the bed that was unoccupied, hesitating. “Are you sure? This can’t possibly be proper, Lady Impa will have my head.” 

“Propriety be damned, I own a throne over nothing, there is no enforcement of proper anymore, Link. No matter what Impa may try and tell you.” She patted the bed next to her, and as he lay next to her, she moved the sheets up to her face, sleep coming fast now. 

With a warm body by her side, Zelda had the best night of sleep she had gotten in over 100 years, a delightfully dreamless slumber. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next few chapters are really fighting me tooth and nail, but I'll try to put something out in the next week or so (: I've gotten some of it written, but I've had a rough couple of days so I'm just hoping that better mood accompanies better writing. but I have been jamming to some new music and my heart just soars listening to 'strawberry blond' by mitski. also there's a song that has been inspiring me in the next few chapters as well, so I wanted to credit it here. 'liar' by the arcadian wild, it's been a bit nonstop in my ears. 
> 
> i wish you all a happy february and good health!


	4. eggs and toast

chapter four: eggs and toast

She awoke, blinking in the morning air, muted light filtering through the window and onto the room around her. Rain was falling outside, tapping lightly on the roof. Mornings like these were always difficult to wake up to, as if the dreary weather were an excuse to nestle further into the warmth of the comforter. And based on her memories of the previous night, digging herself a hole in the sheets was more palatable than facing the morning. 

However, the smell of savory food from downstairs made Zelda’s stomach grumble, and she decided that, unfortunately, the comfort of the sheets would not cover the hunger pains sufficiently. She threw the sheets off, still clad in Link’s clothing from the night before. Offhandedly, she wondered when Link had gotten up, and whether he even stayed the whole night at all. Of course, she wouldn’t blame him if he had gotten up as soon as she drifted off to sleep, as she remembered with a hot flush how desperate she must have sounded asking him to share a bed. 

Stepping carefully, she moved to the loft’s edge to peer down into the kitchen to inquire what her companion was stirring up in the kitchen. Link’s back was to her, slicing up a loaf of bread, a cast iron pot of eggs and various vegetables simmering nearby. With a wooden spoon in one hand, Link stirred the eggs, then swiftly placed the bread on another skillet to toast. It was fascinating to watch him work in the kitchen, his movements as surely placed as they were in battle. She idly wondered where he had learned to cook. Before… everything, she remembered that he was just as masterful over a cooking pot, so a parent’s instruction might be the answer, if not a need for survival and an aptitude for understanding flavor. Link wrapped up the goat butter, turning around to place it on the table, and with the movement, his eyes tipped up to meet her own. 

“Good morning.” Her voice was scratchy, her throat feeling as though it had been glued shut. 

“Good morning,” he replied, setting the goat butter down and subsequently wiping his hands on his pajama pants. “Breakfast?” 

“Please and thank you,” Zelda smiled, removing herself from her post. Walking down the steps, she tried to pace herself, as to not look too eager for Link’s homemade cooking, but her body struggled against that notion. Stepping awkwardly a few steps behind Link as he continued working in the kitchen, she looked over his shoulder at the steaming eggs, shoving the sleeves of his too-long shirt higher up on her elbows. 

“Eggs.”

Zelda couldn’t help but gasp out a laugh in incredulity. “Huh?” 

Link turned around, grinning. “They’re eggs. Isn’t that eggs-cellent? The yolk to my ox, you might say.” 

Zelda shook her head, groaning. “Oh that was abysmal, Link, truly horrible. I think I’ve lost my appetite.” 

“Ah, more eggs for me, can’t complain. I crack myself up.” Turning back to tend to the eggs and toast that was surely on its way to being done, Zelda began to take out plates and napkins from the stores next to the stove, laughing internally at her companion’s horrible puns, and trying not to give him the satisfaction of true laughter. She laid the items she had grabbed on the table, noting the vase with flowers had been replaced with fresh flora.  _ Either Link is secretly an interior decorator, or… did someone give these to him?  _

They were a pretty pale blue, the flower themselves small but aplenty in the plume. Humming lightly at them, Zelda continued setting the table for breakfast, her thoughts consumed by the meaning of the flowers, if there even was one. She wasn’t shocked that Link would have admirers, as he was well-liked in the community, always giving up time to help with small tasks, as well as keeping them safe from any danger entering the village. He was truly the most sincere and hardworking individual Zelda had ever met. And it didn’t hurt that he was maddeningly handsome as well. 

_ Okay,  _ that’s  _ going to have to stop, please, Zelda.  _

Link was beside her, suddenly, placing the food on the table, a satisfied twinkle in his blue eyes as he looked over the layout. “Thanks.”

“Why are you thanking me, I’m the one who slept in and woke up to breakfast, I should be thanking you!” Zelda moved to sit, resting her elbows on the table, dropping her chin into her hands and raising her eyebrows playfully. “You’ll make a girl very happy someday with that behavior.” 

“Hmm…” Link paused, looking down at his plate. “That certainly is not on my radar. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Royalty gets served first,” and suddenly he was reaching for the eggs, ready to scoop a serving onto Zelda’s plate. 

“That’s just silly, if anything, you are closer to royalty than I am. The people here respect you, admire you, and… presumably bring you gifts?” She nodded her head forward slightly towards the flowers, keeping an eye on his reaction as he continued to serve eggs onto her plate.. “You are the Hero, and with that comes some sort of status.”

Link rolled his eyes at that, placing some eggs onto his own plate. “Princess, if people knew who you were, I think they’d forget my sorry self in an instant. As for getting showered with gifts, I assure you they are few and far between. However, I keep the expensive items locked up out back.” 

Zelda raised her brow, grabbing a knife full of goat butter. “Oh? That’s what’s in that little shack?” 

Link nodded solemnly, taking a bite of toast, swallowing thoughtfully. “Yes, where else am I to put my treasures, of which include broken swords and hand-me-down clothing items? Those are my true collectibles.” 

Zelda only laughed, placing her attention on the food in front of her, falling into comfortable silence. As she chewed thoughtfully, she was thankful that neither of them had brought up the previous night. It seemed as though Link wanted to forget about it as much as she did, a bashful lapse in strength on her part. Although, she was afraid that he saw her as another task to fix, and that that was the reason he was being so helpful and careful around her.  _ He must feel latched onto me because of how broken I look, his damned sense of duty.  _ Suddenly her bitterness, her anxiousness to leave, came back. 

“Purah should be back soon,” Link interrupted her onslaught of thoughts, and she glanced up to meet his gaze, finding a concerned wrinkle between his brows. She nodded in response, setting down her bread. “I think it’ll be good for you to have another friend in town.”

Zelda smiled.  _ Fixing the problem, step one. _ “Yes, I think so. She can inform me more on what has happened these past one hundred years, as I’m sure there’s much work to be done.”

Link nodded, adding, “Yes, I’ve seen the spread of Hylians across this land. There’s not any unity, it’s a free-for-all. It’ll be interesting to see what comes next.” 

_ Next. That’s what I never had a plan for, what I never expected to come _ . 

“Yes, I’m sure your perspective on the matter is very valuable, with new eyes experiencing it all for the first time. Not remembering much of what life was like before.” She felt surprisingly bitter as the words left her mouth; the pain and grief of not only losing her friends and her family, but the land as she knew it, perforated her words despite her trying to hold it in. 

“The difference is stark, Princess. We can discuss it anytime.” This time, his eyes searched her face, looking for a reaction, she supposed. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t bear to unload the pain onto him, the pain that she felt deep within her being, because she didn’t want to drag him down into the dregs with her, as she’d already done just the night before. She wanted to tell him what it felt like, desperately, perhaps in an attempt to selfishly not be alone in this, but the feelings would not morph into words.

“What are your plans for today?” She said instead, setting her fork down. He did not look entirely pleased at the turn of conversation, but seemed to not want to push it, and instead leaned back in his chair, arms folded lazily behind his head, and closed his eyes. 

“Whatever your plans are, Princess, are mine.”

She stared down at her eggs. Her stupid, perfect eggs made by her stupid, perfect knight.  _ He’s going to make it hard to say goodbye, isn’t he?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooo I have been struggling! anyway here's another of my short wee lil chapters. anyone else excited for skyward sword??? heheheheh


	5. in portion, in time

chapter five: in portion, in time

When Link said that his plans were hers, she didn’t think it would be as damn literal as it was. From the time she helped him clean up to the moments sitting and working on the necklace he’d given her, he sat in seriously close proximity. It was interesting to compare the Link from this era to the one of the previous, when he’d walk behind her, or sit across the campfire from her on their journeys. In this life, closeness was not something he appeared to take heed to often. She found she didn’t mind, but it made her sad to think that his duty was so ingrained in him to span even a century. She wasn’t sure who he was anymore, and she wasn’t sure he knew who he was to begin with. A paradox, in which it seemed they both had separate parts of the puzzle, but didn’t know where to fit them together. 

Perhaps they didn’t fit together at all. 

She inhaled sharply, as she pricked her finger on the wire that she was working on. She wanted to emulate the elegant swirl that the jewelry-maker had made before on the stone, but couldn’t get it right. Her hands felt clumsy, too large for such intricacies. Blood bloomed on her finger, to which she stared at glumly. She used to be adept at sewing, or at least able to find her way around a needle to darn a sock. Either it was her lack of skill or her lack of concentration that were impeding her progress.

“Are you bleeding?” Link was sitting at her side beside the hearth, sharpening his small collection of kitchen knives. He reached into the pocket of his simple brown trousers, pulling out a handkerchief. 

“What a gentleman, where did you even get a handkerchief? It’s just a small droplet, I wouldn’t want to stain it,” she smiled at his offer, looking back down at the small pinprick. Before she could wipe it on her pants, Link huffed and took her hand, placing the cloth on her finger, applying soft pressure to the tender spot. “Link, that’s just silly,” she softly said, but keeping her hand in his regardless. Touch, something else that was few and far between before, only when necessary, like when he helped her jump down from a rock, or to step across a river. This touch was lingering, and set her heart fluttering again. 

The silence stretched on, and so did his hand on hers. Neither moved, but the stillness didn’t feel oppressive. Zelda’s eyes remained down at their hands, both of his clamshelled around her dominant hand, his thumb still pressing on the pinprick, the pain of which was no longer of any concern to her. His grasp was warm, permeating through the cloth. She felt a little nervous, unsure how to break the encounter, while simultaneously not wanting it to end. Breathing in, Zelda’s eyes rose to watch the summer rain falling outside, relishing in the moment of peace, trying to commit every sensation to memory. From his warm hands, to the smell of his soap, and the thrumming of rain against the roof, she didn’t want to forget this when these moments would inevitably end. 

“Can I ask you something?” Link broke the silence, but not his grasp.

“Of course, you can ask me anything,” Zelda replied softly, closing her eyes. 

Link cleared his throat softly, pausing. She remained silent, hoping he understood that she would wait for him to continue at his pace. “I remember quite a bit of our time before, but I still have spots that are dim, and sometimes I have trouble fitting the pieces together. As if I’m missing out key parts of my life, as if I’m locked out of a portion of my brain, and myself. And I was hoping that we could… I suppose, recall, or at least you could help me to stitch these pieces together. You’re the only one who was alongside me, who might have some answers for me after so many years. But please, tell me if this is asking too much of you.” 

Zelda was surprised, her eyes flickering open, turning towards Link. This was not what she was expecting to hear from her knight. She hadn’t asked, mostly out of fear of the answer, how much he truly recollected, but to hear that he did remember some was enough to make her heart soar. “Link, you never ask enough of me, this is a small repayment for all you’ve done for me. Whenever you want to talk, just ask. All I want between us is honesty.” 

_I feel deceitful, asking for honesty when wearing a mask myself._ Without thinking, her other hand found his, wrapped around hers. She squeezed lightly, hoping to instill strength that she didn’t feel that she had, but was hoping it was convincing enough. 

“Along those lines, I have another thing that I feel I must admit,” Glancing over at his words, Zelda noticed a look of abashment on his face, his eyes staring down at the floor with a small smile playing across his features. “I may or may not have read your diary.” 

Zelda gasped, one of her hands leaving his grasp to hit his shoulder playfully. “What? When did you have time to do that? And where did you even get it?”

Link laughed and leaned away, swatting her hand from approaching to deliver a second smack. “It was before I remembered much, but somebody I came across asked me to get a cookbook from Hyrule Castle, and I got a little lost and found my way into your quarters. At this point, I remembered only bad moments between us, and I wanted insight into our relationship. Also, I figured it’d been 100 years and you could’ve been an old croon at present for all I knew, so I assessed that a quick read of your diary wouldn’t hurt.”

“So let me get this straight; you went into Hyrule Castle… to get a cookbook for some mysterious fellow… you are unbelievable.” Zelda didn’t hesitate to hit him again. “Oh for all that is holy, I’m not even sure what I wrote in that, probably rambling about how absolutely _unbelievable_ you are. Did you keep it?”

“Well, do you also remember how I said I have my most treasured items out back?” Link raised his eyebrows, shrugging. “As for the cookbook, not only did I risk my life to retrieve that, but the man also made me cook him a fruitcake. Now that is unbelievable.”

Zelda looked at him seriously, eyebrows drawing down into a playful pout. “A couple of things I need to unpack here. One, you know how to make fruitcake and you haven’t made it yet? That needs to be amended,” Link grinned bigger, but nodded in acquiescence. “Secondly, are you saying that you have my diary here?”

Link’s smile faded slightly, and he looked back out the window. “Yes, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I wasn’t sure…” He stopped himself, again clearing his throat. _He didn’t want to hurt me further. I can’t imagine what other precautions he has been enacting in response to my behavior._

“Well, I would love to see it, if I may. To see how embarrassed I should be.” 

“Princess, it’s yours, after all. I’ll be right back.” Link let go of her hand, leaving the handkerchief behind. Her hands felt cold in their absence, she noted quite wistfully as he scurried out of the door and into the rain. 

Folding up the handkerchief, she kneaded it between her fingers, mulling over the conversation she and Link had had. It was a slight solace to hear that his memories were returning, as well as unexpected. This was something she found quite interesting within the scientific portion of her brain, but the emotional part buried her interest swiftly, filing it away mentally to explore later. When she had originally made the decision to put him in the shrine of resurrection, she was fully aware that he might forget himself and his previous life and yet she still made the choice, acting both in part from the instruction of the Master Sword and her own selfish desires. She remembered, harshly, watching the two Sheikah men carry Link away from her after finding them at Fort Hateno, the pain just as burning in present as it was then. She was attempting to shove away that pain when Link burst back in through the door, rain having soaked through his clothes and producing a puddle beneath his feet within moments. 

“It’s a bit of a rager out there,” He said, shaking the droplets out of his hair and onto the floor. Zelda smiled, the image of his face from 100 years ago, devastatingly devoid of color and marred by the blood of battle, replaced by the image of his present visage, dripping, red-tinged, and smiling. A face of joy, of home, of a friend… 

She hoped he wasn’t mad at her for forcing him into this second lease at life, because she wasn’t sure she could’ve lived without seeing his smile at least once more. 

He pulled the book out from under his shirt, sitting back next to her on the ground next to the hearth, and held it out in her direction. Zelda hesitated, her hand in midair, reaching for the weathered and worn leather-bound book. A strange association to her past life, one that forcefully reminded her that she was still young despite all of the life she had experienced. Aching for the life that she felt she had lost, she grasped the book in her hand, setting it on her lap weakly. 

“Do you want some privacy?” His voice was soft, and she could feel his eyes on the side of her face, probably searching for any sign of a replay of the night before, when she lost control. She would not let that lapse happen again, she was determined to be strong for him, she felt that she owed him some sort of stability, at the least. 

“No, please, I’m truly fine.”

_Another lie, will he see through my act? Do I want him to?_

Link’s hand rested upon hers on the book, squeezing it gently, before pulling away. A small, casual touch to instill calm, he knew her well. “You don’t have to read it now, that doesn’t mean you’re not strong, Zelda. You are more resilient than any person I have ever met. It’s okay to admit to being afraid, that’s not a lapse in courage.” 

Zelda couldn’t find the words to answer him, so she didn’t. 

“If you want to talk, I am here to talk with you too, Zelda. Please, don’t feel that you are hurting me. I think we understand each other better than we know. And if you can’t find the words, we can find them together. Or if you don’t want to, that’s fine too. I wonder if, instead, writing it down would be revealing to you at all, rather than reading about the past,” Link closed his mouth, clearing his throat suddenly. Zelda noticed redness filling his cheeks and ears. “I apologize if I’ve overstepped, or am acting too familiar, Princess.”

“Link, you need not apologize. We are equals, you can call me Zelda. My, I think I’d prefer it. Thank you, for your words,” Zelda stopped, not sure whether to admit to the crushing fear she felt. “I assure you, I’m fine. But I may take your advice, I can’t say I’ve written a thing down in a century, my handwriting might be truly awful!” She laughed, standing quickly to search for a pen. 

“Alright, Zelda.” Link wasn’t laughing, but offered a small smile before returning to his own task in silence. Zelda took that as I cue to run upstairs, before the feeling of doom swallowed her whole. Why did attention to her feelings feel so overwhelming? Why did she wish he was looking anywhere but her? It felt as though he were staring into the essence of her being, seeing her scars and faults, and the lies that she was continuing to live. 

She gripped a pen in her hand, sitting slowly at the desk in the bedroom, opening the book to a blank section. The pages were stained, fragile feeling, but she felt that it would hold her ink, and so she began to write.

_I cannot believe that I’m the same person possessing these pages previously. I’m truly afraid to look back into those pages and see what I’ve lost. Each day, I realize that I’m not in a right state of mind, however much I don’t want to admit to this lapse in character. This shouldn’t be who I am, with the blood of a Goddess flowing through my veins (supposedly, although perhaps Her blessing left with the scourge). Instead of basked in the light of victory, I am instead left in the same darkness that seeped into my soul a century ago. Instead, I must look back at my mistakes, and continue to lie to those around me. Stubborn, stubborn girl. I just can’t admit when I’m in too deep. But I think what I’m afraid of most of all, is losing him. Now I’m just a stubborn and stupid girl, walking the road to heartbreak. Yet I keep sprinting. I need to plan my escape, I think. It’s too late for me, the least I can do is give him a chance._

With that, the pen that had been scribbling so furiously, dropped out of her hand. She couldn’t look at the words swimming on the page anymore, the truth staring her harshly in the face. So, instead, she closed the book, gripping her stomach, afraid of the spinning world around her, of losing control again. She curled up on the wood flooring, the coldness grounding her to reality once again. And she didn’t dare make a sound

\----

When Zelda finally opened her eyes again, her cheeks tight with dried tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed, and the rain was beginning to slow. With the cloud cover, it was hard to tell how late into the day it was, but she knew she needed to get up. Lifting herself off the ground, she laid her hand upon the diary on the desk and looked out onto the first floor. Link was nowhere in sight, which caused her to wonder just how long she was out, as she must have fallen asleep in her attempt to shut out the world. 

It’d give her a chance to figure out her next steps, she figured. 

So with that, she took pen to paper once more, opening to a new page, a fresh start. 

_To do list:_

_Prepare for a trip to Kakariko Village_

_Convince Link that I need to go alone_

  
Her list was short, but the impact of the words were full and, frankly, confusing. She didn’t necessarily want to travel without Link, to embark on a solo mission after having been alone for so long, but she also wanted him to live a life without her being the main purpose. Even after almost dying for her, losing everything that made him him, he was still forced to live the path that she felt she had set forth for him. Therefore, she felt it was her duty to try and separate, to give him a chance to do what he wanted to do with the time he had truly earned. And with that time, she could try and figure out what it meant to live as just plain old Zelda, whomever that may be at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when I was writing this chapter, I tried to put into words some of the fear I feel around burdening others with my own fears/anxieties/pain. I wonder if others felt similarly to me, that feeling of wanting to hide when you tell someone the truth of how much fear you have (etc.) 
> 
> also I had to stop myself from calling mr. fruitcake man handsome........... I mean where's that fan fiction? Link x hot fruitcake man... this is my calling, I think. "but when he walks in, I am loved I am looooooved" - Mr. fruitcake man when Link gives him a fruitcake.... okay I need to copyright that 
> 
> but anyway, thanks for reading as always (o: ALSO side note, I literally had been putting off defeating Ganon on BOTW bc I didn't want it to end so I was doing literally anything else (got that Korok counter way too high) and I finally defeated him last night!!!!! can you believe it???? I digress.... 
> 
> dream of fruitcake my friends


	6. the incoming downpour

chapter six: the incoming downpour

The rest of the day passed in relative silence, as Zelda discovered that Link was no longer in the house at all, having left while she was asleep. This revelation was made when she came across a note left on the dining room table, explaining that he had been called by a fellow villager seeking assistance corralling some livestock that had escaped in the storm. In the meantime, Zelda decided to gather up the little belongings that she had, to see how much she needed to prepare for her intended journey. 

After collecting her personal effects, only her diary, some clothing (which had been graciously bought by Link upon arriving in Hateno), some assorted toiletries, and the stone and plier sat on the bed, unceremoniously announcing to Zelda just how unprepared she was to travel.  _ Not even a rupee to my name. Back to the drawing board, I suppose.  _ She barely knew where to start, especially without asking for the assistance of her one connection to this new world. 

Deciding there wasn’t much reason for her to wallow alone in the house any longer, she strapped on her boots and left, grabbing Link’s cloak that she found on a hook by the door. The air wasn’t cold, a break in the rain allowing the sun to peek through the dark clouds. The air felt sticky against her skin, thick and humid, characteristic of a summer day about to turn into a storm. Walking across the bridge, Zelda decided that her effort to waste away her day could be started with a little research, eyeing the blue glow of a shrine in the distance. Winding her way around the building-block houses in the foreground of Link’s house, she began walking slowly up to the shrine, the familiar twinge of excitement surrounding the ancient technology returning. 

She ran her hand along the pedestal, peering curiously into the open door, examining the glowing crevices around her. As compared to her previous memories of the shrines, the blue glow was entrancing. She would never have guessed that light would, or could, come from the shrines at all. Suddenly, Zelda was itching for a notebook. 

“What could be causing this glow, what is the power source? I need to get inside…” Zelda muttered to herself, stepping closer to the open gap of the shrine. The inside was almost like a hallway, ending in a small circular room. Although it was a bit dark inside the shrine, she didn’t notice anything of interest along the walls. Still, her hands trailed along the smooth stone, feeling for any deviations that could be a clue to the inner workings of the ancient structure. 

Zelda sighed, reaching the corner in the end and staring at the plate beneath her feet. Crouching down, she ran her hands along the floor as well, carefully tracing the seams, nothing but observational inquiries coming to mind. She attempted to think of what this reminded her of, connecting it to her current bank of knowledge.

“Is this a trap door of some sort?” She asked herself, fingernails prying the edge, trying to find any leniency. Her face scrunched as she tried to get a finger hold, adjusting her stance.

“Back to trying to break into the shrines, I see.” The voice behind her caused her to jump, breaking the silence of the shrine quite suddenly. A quick glance showed the intruder to be Link, who was, to Zelda’s amusement, covered from head to toe in mud. 

“Where have you been, rolling down hills with the village children?” Zelda stood, crossing her arms in front of her, eyeing Link from his caked boots slowly up to his mud splattered face, which was twinged red. She looked at his collar, the white linen shirt stained brown with mud. She wondered if there was a soap strong enough to lift such a dark stain.

Zelda’s thoughts were broken as Link shifted weight from one foot to the other, crossing his arms in front of him, almost self consciously. She quickly realized that his source of discomfort was likely because her eyes had fallen to his collarbone area, staring blankly while lost in thought. Her eyes snapped up immediately, her cheeks warm.

“Feels as though I’ve been dunked into a swamp, and then severely stomped on,” Link smiled as Zelda’s eyes met his. Investigating his features, she noted a small cut on his cheek, which was also caked in mud, to her displeasure. “The goats were not friendly today, I think a more severe storm is rolling in that’s making them nervous. Regardless, would you like to go into the shrine? I haven’t tried since… well you know. Maybe they’ve changed, we can check it out if you’d like.” 

The excitement Zelda felt at Link even mentioning entering the shrine felt immeasurable, but another look at Link’s soaked outfit and the cut on his face, which no doubt preceded a number of other small surface-level injuries, changed her mind. 

“How about we get you cleaned up first? That cut should not sit and fester like that, we need to rinse that or it’ll scar.” Zelda stepped up to his face, examining the cut a little closer, her hand resting lightly on his cheek, her thumb resting near the cut itself. It wasn’t deep, and appeared to be more of a scrape than anything too extraordinary. The blood that may have fallen previously had congealed over the gash. “Hmm, yes, let’s head on back…” 

Link nodded, his face serious, his eyebrows scrunched slightly together. Zelda’s hand fell to her side, tingling. 

“You know I have enough scars for several lifetimes over, I don’t think another will make a horrible difference for my appearance.” Link rubbed at his face, touching the cut with his dirt covered fingers. Zelda snatched his hand by the wrist to stop him, her eyes squinting in defiance.

“Well, it’s never too late to take care of oneself, right?” Zelda raised her eyebrows, dropping his wrist. “Come on, let’s get on back, especially before this prodigious storm as foretold by the goats washes us away.” 

Link snorted, his arm moving behind Zelda to guide her back outside, his hand ghosting on her lower back as they moved in silence down the steps of the shrine, stopping at the bottom to observe the change in atmosphere. The soft sunlight had disappeared, instead replaced by a purple-gray glow reflecting off of the looming clouds. She could feel the electricity in the air, which was causing her arm hairs to stand on end. It was as if her body was warning her, turning on her fight or flight instincts. Link must have sensed the same thing, his hand now fully against her back, his face up to the clouds with a look of apprehension. 

“I think we’d better hurry, I think the goats were right.” Link grabbed her hand. As if in reaction to the sudden touch, thunder rumbled in the distance, matching the leap in Zelda’s heart. The first fat rain drops dropped unceremoniously on her forehead, foretelling more to come. The two then began to walk a little faster, breaking into a run as the rain began to fall in sheets quite suddenly. 

Zelda felt, strangely, glee at the feeling. A laugh escaped her, still being dragged along by Link in the rain towards the promise of a warm fire, of blankets and comfort. Before reaching the house, she stopped, her hand leaving Link’s. She tipped her face to the sky, closing her eyes. Feeling the rain drip against her smile, her hands clasped over her chest, she felt one with the world again. She felt as if she were a part of it, rather than above it as an observer. Here, she was just another girl enjoying the rain on a summer day. 

Blinking the water out of her eyes, she looked to Link, who was smiling at her from the safety of the doorway, leaning against the frame. Grinning still, and feeling quite empowered perhaps simply by her own mortality, she reached a hand out to him, her palm up in offering. He took the couple of steps forward, grabbing her hand tightly, tipping his face up to the clouds as she had done, eyes closed.

Zelda watched his face relax, as if in a state of meditation, a smile still touching his features handsomely. She watched his face in admiration for a little longer, a feeling of belonging in her heart, before turning her own face up to the clouds in reverence. And so they stood, hand in hand, the storm raging around them, but a feeling of never ending peace between them.

After several moments that seemed to stretch an eternity, a crack of thunder split the air again, this time a little too close for comfort. Link’s hand squeezed hers again, bringing her attention back to the boy with the blue eyes next to her. 

“Let’s get inside, Zelda.” She nodded, still smiling serenely at her counterpart. His face had been washed clean by the downpour, but as a result, blood had begun to bloom again at the cut. Zelda clicked her tongue and led him inside, ready to begin her next task of cleaning the cut. 

Once within the doors, Zelda sat upon the floor to unlace her boots, her fingers working at the laces to get the soggy threads apart. “We’re lucky the rain washed most of the dirt off your face, now we should just make sure it’s fully ready to heal. Do you have any alcohol?” 

“For me or for the cut?” Link said, removing his fingerless gloves and hanging them on the collection of hooks by the door. Zelda only shook her head in response, attempting to pull off her boots. “I do, actually. I’m not sure if it’s first aid approved, but it’s definitely some sort of alcohol.” 

With her fingers ready to undo the clasp on Link’s cloak around her, she smirked slightly, turning to Link. “Are you even old enough to drink, young man? You hardly look a day past seventeen.” 

“Listen, I know that I’m at the very least 100 years old, which, correct me if I’m wrong, is far extending past the legal drinking age.” Link grabbed the cloak from Zelda, who suddenly felt pause at his sentence, the cogs in her brain turning in understanding. 

“Link,” she started, drawing her knees up and resting her hands on her knees. He hummed in reply, continuing to hang up their assorted dripping accessories. “Do you know how old you are? Do you even know your birthday?”

Link turned around slowly, reaching his hands out to help her up from her position on the floor. He pulled her up slowly, his eyes searching her face carefully, inquisitively. She remained blank, waiting for his answer patiently until his eyes found hers again, smiling slightly. “No, no I don’t. I have an idea, but… it’s more of a feeling than anything concrete.” 

Zelda sighed, her hands leaving his. “I’m so sorry, Link. I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through, waking all alone, not knowing who you were or why you were being called upon. You must have been so frightened.” 

Link’s hand raised to rest on the side of her face, cradling it gently. “I think our experiences are more similar than you think, Zelda. Please, don’t feel sorry for me. I’m still figuring it out, but what I do know is that every day has been a gift, especially the ones that frightened me. They remind me of what I’ve been fighting for, even if I didn’t remember it at first. I think I always knew where I belonged, deep down. And despite all of that, forgetting my birthday seems a small price to pay to enjoy the rain once again.”

She knew he was telling the truth. He seemed content here, and beyond that, he seemed so strong and so sure in his path, in the destiny that had been decided for him. But still, for him to forget so much of himself was concerning. How could he coincide who he used to be with who he was today? She couldn’t, after all, and she knew exactly who she used to be. 

“Please just talk to me, Zelda. What’s going on in that brain of yours?” He was now frowning, his hand no longer gracing the side of her face, but resting on his hips formally. Zelda was reminded painfully of how much this mirrored his previous self, when he was a soldier and prepared to stand his ground. 

“If I’m honest, I don’t know how to explain what I’m thinking. I just am afraid for you, Link. Are you truly okay with the possibility of not remembering yourself, your childhood memories, your family?” Zelda’s heart sunk, remembering his family; the golden locks of his younger sister, whom she’d met only once, but her presence left an imprint that easily lasted a lifetime. The tall, stoic man, with blue eyes encircled by crows feet that told the story of years of jovial life, Link’s father. A knight himself, one that Zelda could see in Link’s stance now, years and years of muscle training seemingly written into his genetic code. 

“No, I’m not okay with that, but I’m growing to accept that it may be a possibility. But it became easier to accept that possibility when there was someone to share the memories with, and the grief that I’m sure is to come. We’re in this together, since the beginning,” Link shifted slightly in his stance. “And forgive me if I’m being presumptuous, but I think the one you need to be focusing your energy on healing is yourself right now.” 

That was painful, because she knew he was right. But the feeling of being trapped in a windowless room, of all the oxygen being swept out in an instant, the feeling accompanying facing those fears and the healing that she had yet to do, was not a path she felt she could currently handle. And so, she didn’t.

“Actually, sir, I think you are the patient in this situation,” she cleared her throat, speaking slowly and articulately. “Let’s get that alcohol, hm?”

Just like that, the feeling in the room snapped back into place. Zelda noticed that she still felt as though the oxygen was leaving the room, as though any path she took, she was fated to be sucked away with the rest of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof ouch my bones


End file.
